Home
by s'cfanin
Summary: Yeah, you all know the story :  It's the 16th July 2010, they finally go home together but this time it's Christian's POV. Be nice with me, it's my first try at this.  Nevertheless, honest reviews appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

**Home**

Summary: Yeah, you all know the story :) It's the 16th of July 2010, they finally go home together. While watching this clip I wondered about Christian's reactions, so I tried to catch them, in a way... I tried to be as logical and reasonable as possible... maybe someone could review my story and tell me if I'm anywhere near that… This is only the beginning, I also wrote the not-seen behind closed doors actions after they went home together (I'm crap at smut, so nothing graphical – sorry) but first wanted to see if anyone think it's worth uploading more.

**Let's go home. **

I wake up, miserably as ever since he set foot in my life. Spend the day with pushing my business _Absacadabra_ by spreading flyers all over the square. Jane's laughing about my magic wand idea and I pretend to laugh with her. As well as pretending to everything being okay when spotting him at his family's stand.

Just a few days ago… I'm cured… He's touching me, we both feel the electric shock bolting through our bodies. Cured… ridiculous. He's not stupid. He knows there's no such thing as cure. It's just… his only hope that, maybe, there's a way for him to not lose his family, his entire community. For that he's ready to give up everything else. Not only me (I'm not stupid either; he can hardly live happily ever after with _me,_ just across the street from his bigoted parents) but everything that is him. Sometimes I hardly know him when he's around his family. With me he's just Syed. Funny, open, charming Syed. With them… always son and brother, always obedient, always Muslim. Yes, Mum. Thanks, Dad. No, I can't make it, Christian… Mosque, you know?

…I told him to get stuffed.…

He's shouting my name across the square. Coming up to me. Telling me what I wanted to hear ever since this _therapy_ started. He looks happy… I automatically flinch away when he's approaching me, all expectant smiles. No. I'm not his reward. All the more: He's happy about his decision in this minute. Fine for him. But the minute he's going to wake up in my bed the next morning he's going to think about his Mum, his Imam, his therapist. And before I know he'll tell me what I can't have because he can't. So no. I reject him. For everyone to see.

I'd like to go home and crawl up into a tiny little ball in my bed. Or go to my usual, taking home the usual, doing the usual with him. Only I know… Nothing's going to stop the thoughts. The Whys. The amazement about him freely shouting my name in the street. Nothing but excessive exercise so I spend the next hours with running. Running away from it all, only to end back in the square. Looks like trying to forget that he lives there too went all too well.

…I don't want a reward…

I could walk on, into the Vic, get pissed all over, burning something down to the ground. Instead I stop, turn my head and know he's serious. This doesn't change anything, but it leads to us standing in the middle of the street, me all sweaty and he all decidedly.

I told him a thousand times. Been there, done that. I'm not going to go back. Taking all the blame of his family for snatching away their first son. Taking his game of loving-hating-loving. He talks about them. About his religion. About being gay _and_ being Muslim. About needing help with the gay part. And I fall. Only this time he's falling with me, all honest and open smiles, and I never thought falling can be so good.

… And I don't think you can go to hell for having loved…

Their bond is broken. With such force there's no way back for him. Only forward, to my home. Our home.

Let's go home.


	2. Chapter 2

I close the door behind us. Turn to him. And suddenly the fear is back. He's standing in the middle of my flat, like so many times before. Only now there's an odd chill around us, the joy of having each other back seems to be lost on the way home. He changed his mind. I can sense it. _…__Christian__… __sorry__… __big__mistake__… __gotta__go__…_ Only then he has to walk past me since I'm blocking the door – but in my shocked state nothing's easier than that.

…Christian… I recall the next hours as one big heap of steamy love. Hot, wonderful, longing, caring, amazing love. Instead of running for his life before I can even think of touching him he threw himself into my arms, and the love started.

Now I lay flat on my back, eyes closed, breath slowly going back to normal, Sy's smell all over me, my bed and my flat. No. Our bed. In our flat. Not to mention that I'm his, too. Like I've always been.

I'd like to use the wave of love washing over me to declare exactly this to him as I feel him shifting besides me. Opening my eyes I see his back, turned to me. Okay, Sy… I like your game. I stop in the thick of leaping into my favourite sleeping position when a couple of heavy sobs enter the peace and quiet, and suddenly I'm back in the gruesome ugly reality.

My Sy… my beautiful Sy… crying his heart out… and why? Well, no need to guess there. If it wouldn't be for me he would wake up in his family's house tomorrow morning, probably with a list of future Mrs Masoods pinned to the head board. That's not what he wants, and I can't even say how proud I am of him to stand up against Godzilla's regime. Still he's crumpled up like a foetus besides me and I'm at a complete loss. My fault. My own, egoistic fault. I know there's no sense in thinking like that but I can hardly help myself.

At last I manage to reach out to him, wind my arms around him and hold him tight, so tight, resting my forehead in the crook of his neck. "I'm sorry." I really can't help myself. The guilt's too overwhelming. He shivers, the sobbing slowly weakening. "Don't be. I should. I am. Christian." Still hiccupping Sy turns in my arms, facing me, all wet and sad face. I wipe away all wetness with the corner of our sheet and all sadness with slow, tender kisses all over his complexion.

"Let's agree… we're both… a complete failure…" We laugh and kiss the same time, holding each other till sleep takes over.

When I wake, he's gone. The left side of the bed is empty, but sheet and pillow crumpled. So at least having him back wasn't just one of my bad dreams… no, it's worse… I had him… and now he's gone, back to mummy's bosom…

"You sleeping all day…?"

Padding from my storage into the main room, Syed greets me with both a broad smile and the question about my plans for today, the next second his chest is pressed against mine, my arms tightly wrapped around his shoulders, my eyes watering his neck.

"Don't you dare… letting me wake up alone ever again… _you__hear__me_?" I'm a bit surprised by my own outburst; but really, just a bit. What was he thinking?

"Christian… I'm so sorry… I was cold and… I don't have any clothes and…"

"S'okay…" Backing off of him a tiny little bit I realize he's wearing one of my tightest shirts, fitting him just perfect, over his stripy-black briefs, and I'm his again, tears and shock vanished into thin air. He stayed; he didn't run off to Mummy, he didn't leave the country. He has every right to, but he didn't and that deserves a nice reward, if not two or three.

"Don't need this to get warm…" I shove my hands under my (now his) shirt and pull it off in a swift movement, drag him back to bed and make him warm in every sense of the word warm.


	3. Chapter 3

… No eggs, no milk… it's no wonder you've been single so long…

We managed to go back to sleep at some point, and when I wake again, he's there, next to me, all sleeping beauty. My beautiful Indian prince.

Images of that dreadful day flash my mind. I don't know the name of what he was wearing; I only know I've never seen him prettier. In between all that nastiness in my guts, my head and my heart and the need to go for the biggest killing spree in history, it was his look that kept me stunning, that kept me gaping at him, sitting high on a beautiful horse, parading for everyone but me.

I need a few minutes to get rid of the shadows of that day. It didn't work in the end; they broke up, everyone in the square and beyond knew the reason, and still there was no room for me. Course not. He who ruined everything… back on the list? Not even in my wildest dreams. Syed rejected me, I fucked every guy I could lay hands on that wasn't Sy, and that was it.

And still… here we are, united in peace and quiet… the square and the world still against every breathe we take together, and I couldn't give a fucking damn about it.

He gets up while I'm in the shower, and when he rejects my attempt of seducing him by racing dripping and starkers through the flat towards him just because "I'm starving, Christian, and not _that_ kind of starving!" I realise my last weekend shopping must have been several weekends ago.

After some light flirting and not so light kissing we agree on me sneaking out for supplies and then having breakfast in bed.

Apart from a little …This is what I want… we hardly talk about yesterday. There's nothing I'd like to know more than the big why but I sense that of all things he needs at the moment the most important is time. And I'm only too happy to offer it to him. If only he stays in my bed, in my life, I'll do everything.

The breakfast long gone I indeed would like to keep him in bed with me but a muffled mobile ringing from the depths of my cloth heap tells me Syed's not the only one in need for a nice work out today. No way I'm leaving now since my hands are again wandering in their natural direction towards all my boyfriend has to offer but before I can use them to perform their holy magic Sy's up on his feet, ordering me to put on my bottoms and go to work.

So I _go_ to work, pump iron with a handsome black who I couldn't care less about, bump into Rox on my little run back and promise to get loaded again with her soon, observe a strange row between Adam and Libby and return back to my flat and my Sy, only to find both covered up to the top in flour.

… You told me to make myself at home…

Yeah, I have. He ruined my kitchen, he ruined my shirt, and I'll never forget how cute he looked while doing so.

He's talking about the Masala Queen, our common work place back then, where everything started. About him being messy and me going mad. And I know, he could burn down my flat and I'll just laugh about it. In the end I'm covered in flour, too, have to take a shower and, to save water, just drag Sy along with me.


	4. Chapter 4

"What did you want all this flour for anyway?"

As much as I love my chaotic-crazy Sy, I simply can't stand the state of my flat any longer and so we start cleaning up the mess.

"Just some chapatis for lunch" he answers while wiping the kitchen table clean. "I also got chicken, but I've never got to prepare it…" He tries to dart a mock-annoyed glance in my direction but fails halfway when seeing my wide sunshine smile.

So after cleaning up we cook lunch together (using just minimal portions of flour) and decide after eating to take a little summer stroll through the square, to introduce the new couple to the world and everybody else.

When I had a second to take my eyes off of Sy, I managed to send Jane and Rox a short message yesterday night, still they both look kind of doubtful when seeing us approaching hand in hand. They're nice and congratulate Sy and me, still there's a slight touch of annoyance between us all. Don't know what to make of that, but when we walk on, find a nice shady place and Sy starts talking about expecting his family parading by any time soon, my attention is back where it belongs.

"Should we go back home, Sy?" I love being out with him, flirting in the sun and relaxing in the shadow, stroking over his scalp in my lap while watching passers-by smiling at our love. The same time I wouldn't mind taking him back to the flat, into the safeness of our own four walls, before one of them actually turns up, casting nasty looks at their own flesh and blood, making Syed crumple up and sink into misery, daring me to batter their skulls in.

"No, s'fine." I can only imagine that it is not, but before I can assure him that there's no way I'll let him near those people ever again, he continues, and I'm relieved I kept my gob shut.

"I'll not hide, Christian. I told you. They're still my family, and I love them, but I'm not going back. And anyway, I think they already know, don't you?"

All I hear is "I'm not going back", and all I can do is lowering my head till our lips meet in a heart-melting kiss.

… Please, credit me with a bit more style...

Sy doesn't like my suggestion of spending the evening in the Argee Bharjee, so we simply head over to the Vic for an orange juice and a good think where to have dinner and dance later.

They stare at us. At him. It's the first time they see their son and brother since they made him leave his family, and I can see it in their eyes that they didn't expect seeing him standing tall, walking and talking like a normal person rather than this rotten creature they would like to think him to be.

Suddenly, I feel Sy's hand in mine. Surprised I look at him but he continues to stare first at Masood and then at his mother, who looks at him in utter disappointment. This leads to him squeezing my hand tighter and I automatically ask if he's okay before he can turn into a little ball on the ground. One glance from him tells me he is far away from being okay but can't do about nothing about it, so I just end this ugly situation with walking into the Vic, Sy following me a few seconds later.

"You mind a quiet night in?"

As soon as I take a place next to him, offering him an orange juice and a smile, Sy suggests to cancel our first official candle lit dinner to watch some home&garden shows instead. His shoulders slumped, his gaze towards the table top I know there's not much chance of trying to change his mind. They got to him, again.

"Sure, no deal. Just let's sit here for a while, eh?" He said he's not going to hide, so I won't let him. This time it's me taking his hand in mine, making sure he stays at my side, and finally he locks eyes with me, smiles weakly and darts into an apology, but I won't have anything of that.

"Early days, Sy. It's fine." I shortly consider kissing him better but remember the last moment that we're not in our flat but in a place where half the square is watching us. So I simply give his hand in mine a tight squeeze and…

"Love you anyway."

Now Sy's smile turns from a weak one to a big lopsided you're-crazy-to-say-this smile, and I think this night is going to be nice after all.


	5. Chapter 5

_Hello and thanks to my many reviewers :) This chapter I obviously had to improvise a bit but I thought after seeing his parents Syed would have a bit of a downer, coping with it by asking for guidance through praying (don't know if this makes sense – I'm not religious but have a feeling that it would help Syed) and this leading to a little conversation about his faith with Christian._

_Oh, and yeah, I do not own any of the characters I used in this chapter, the ones before or the next._

"Morning… eh…Sy? What you doing over there?"

Waking up in my bed alone makes me nearly jump to my feet but then I see Sy at the other end of the room, covered in half darkness and in an awkward crouched position that makes every alarm bell going off in my head

"Sy… Sy, are you – " I'm at his side within one second, touching his shoulder in desperation, and just then he notices me, jumping to his feet himself.

"Fuck, Christian! I'm praying, what the hell is wrong with you?"

Just now I realize he was crouching on some kind of small rug I've never seen before.

"I… I'm sorry, Sy… I didn't know…"

He's gaping at me for a few seconds while the mood around us turns to ice.

"I'm really sorry…" I try again but he cuts me off.

"Tell you what, Christian, why don't you go to the minute mart and get us some breakfast while I finish here?"

That's more an order than a question so I put on my bottoms and leave Syed to whatever he's doing on that rug. Praying, sure, but when I try to imagine what that means my mind only comes back with a blank space.

While distracted fumbling through Patrick's bread assortment I ask myself if Syed ever told me anything about his faith apart from …I am the way I am because that's how Allah made me…

All this stuff, this praying, going to Mosque, observing Ramadan, even everything that happened since this first night with me, whether good or bad… all this is a part of him, of his faith. A part where I don't have access to and, after this morning, maybe never will. Nice one, Christian.

When I return home, Syed is busy setting the breakfast table; humming a bit while pouring the coffee and putting my bangers onto a plate. Apparently, his mood has increased so I dare to give him a small peck on the cheek and a short ruffle of his hair. He doesn't react much so I simply decide to clear the air the moment he's taking a seat at the other side of the kitchen table.

"Look Sy, I… I never wanted to disturb your prayers. You know that, don't you? I was just so surprised seeing you there on the ground instead of next to me in the bed and- " – "Well, maybe some people have more important things to do than being in bed with you."

So Sy's still angry at me but at the last part he can't suppress a tiny twitch of the corner of his mouth, and relieved I reach across the table to touch his arm slightly. "I'm sorry, Sy. I just never saw you doing this, that's all."

And finally he's nodding, stroking my hand on his arm with his thumb and telling me that he indeed never prayed when I was around but this morning just had to do.

"Didn't think you would wake up so soon so I just took the opportunity, 'cause I knew you wouldn't like it."

Wouldn't like it? "Sy, you can pray whenever you want to!" I emphasize while giving his arm a proper squeeze. "Don't mind me; I'm just a silly dork."

Smiling in agreement, Sy nods again and slowly starts to tuck in, me following him.

While eating I recall his sentence of him having to pray right after waking up. Maybe he had a bad dream and wanted to get rid of it?

Sy nearly chokes on his coffee the minute I ask him about this. "Christian… you don't have any idea what praying is about, do you?" – "Apparently not, so why don't you enlighten me?" – "It's about many things but surely not about processing silly dreams."

Like I said: I'm a dork. My religious knowledge stops somewhere around Adam and Eve; and regarding Syed's faith I'm virtually illiterate.

"So?" Having finished my last banger I now demand from Sy to explain his world to me but he only chews silently while avoiding my gaze.

"Sy?" Finally he's looking to me, but only to quickly look away again, standing up and putting his empty plate and mug into the sink.

"Well, think I should go looking for some clothes and stuff today, Christian… can't wear yours all the time… feel like swimming in them…"

With that he disappears into my spare room. I hear him opening and closing a few drawers and not long after he's coming back with a pair of old chinos and a blue shirt of mine in hand, darting an apologetically glance at me. "The last time, all right?"

My heart leaps a few inches at this sight. He knows fully well what's mine is his, and yet, he still thinks I'd rip his head off the moment he's touching my stuff.

"Come 'ere…" I say, stretching my arms out, and when he just looks at me like a fish I simply make a few steps in his direction, take my shirt out of his hands and order him to hold up his arms.

After a bit of tussling with shirts and arms Sy's finally wearing our shirt, and I can't resist throwing my arms around him in a tight hug, breathing in the scent of his tousled hair.

"If you want… we'll go shopping, babe… and if we don't find anything, you'll keep wearing mine. There's enough in that wardrobe for three of your kind."

Sy smiles, breathes a _thank__you_ and gives me a little peck on the lips, and I decide to just enjoy this sunny summer day with my boyfriend. Surely he'll tell me about all this religion stuff when he's ready.


	6. Chapter 6

"No way, Christian! Stay out; I'm taking this off now!" – "Well, like to see that, too…"

The next moment I'm behind the curtain where Sy struggles to get out of the sporty grey vest I convinced him to try on.

"God, I hate you! Remind me to never go shopping with you ever again."

Finally he's done, throws the crumpled vest in my direction and frowns at me, all red face and tousled hair, and sexy as hell. "God, Sy, I love you so much…" I do, I really do.

At my outburst he only rolls his eyes, his anger diminished within seconds. This I use to wind my arms around his naked torso and turn in the direction of the mirror, swaying the both of us to some silent beat.

"Tell you what" I say to Sy's reflection in the mirror, "You go on and buy whatever you want. This chequered thingy here, the black jeans you refused to wear two sizes smaller or… this silly something…" I add, picking up the greenish polo-neck jumper from the stool next to us in disgust. "More reason for me to get you out of your clothes."

"As if you ever needed a rea– Christmpf– no… take your hands… off me… stop immmhpf … Christiaannn!"

How can I _ever_ stop?

sssssss

We have lunch in some crowded food hall, with halal burgers and a nearly food fight when Sy refuses to explain to me what exactly is halal about the stuff we eat.

We shop a bit for new trunks because I suddenly have this great idea of spending the rest of the day with an almost naked Sy on the nearest beach (sadly, he dismissed this idea right away – refusing to try on any of those nice tiny trunks 'cause he's not much of a swimmer – I'm sure that's nothing than a cheap excuse to annoy me).

We take a stroll down the Thames where Sy simply takes my hand in his while we're walking and tells me about his plans to get back to work soon (although he's not sure _which_ work exactly but is just as optimistic as always).

And we spend most of the afternoon sitting and snogging somewhere in the vicinity of the Hyde Park. Okay, we talk and remain silent as well but most of the time we just snog our heads off. It's the first time I'm able to do this with a guy for hours and hours, and I hope Sy knows what he's up to once we're home.

sssssss

"Sy! Sy, come back to bed, will ya…?" – "In a bit! Just let me… finish here."

With a thud I sink back into the cushions, waiting for Sy to come back from the bathroom.

As I thought, a few hours of snogging in public lead to a few hours of humpy-rumpy in private. Now Sy uses the break for taking a piss and I have time contemplating what an incredible bloke I call my own.

Not only did he nearly rip my shirt off me the second I closed the door of our flat behind us. He also insisted on being the active one today, making me seeing stars before he could even think about himself. And for the fact that Syed doing all the work is a seldom event in this house, he did rather well. In fact, rather incredibly well, and right now I am more in love with my Sy than I thought I could ever be.

"You miss me?"

"Hell yeah, babe! Come 'ere…"

Lying in my arms and drawing slow circles on my chest with his fingers, Sy starts a romantic speech about the furnishings of my bathroom. Apparently he doesn't like bland white tiles from top to bottom. "At least you could have some colourful towels, you know?"

"Anything else, love?" I ask before kissing him right on the mouth. Honestly, he could talk about tearing down my whole flat and I would only do so much as shrug. He lives here, too, so he has every right to change as much as he like.

"Actually… I was thinking… what's with all my new clothes and stuff…maybe we could look for a bigger wardrobe? Don't suppose you'll get rid of any of your vests any time soon…?"

The last part comes in a hopeful voice but I have to disappoint him. "No luck there, babe. I always dreamt of an extra closet… full of vests… maybe we should go looking for two new wardrobes….?"

Absolutely unimpressed, Sy goes up again and starts rummaging through the fridge, changing the subject from furniture to plans for dinner.

It's almost eleven and the fridge is empty so I quickly jump under the shower while Sy's getting us some cod and chips from Ian's place; and we end this glorious day in a nice cloud of love and chip fat; and I just can't get any happier.


	7. Chapter 7

_A million sorries for the delay! Just didn't felt inspired at all with no Chryed on the screen… But finally, here it is; chapter 7 of Home. Please review!_

Tapping out of the bathroom, I have to stop right in my tracks. A bare back is greeting me, ending in the most precious curve of an arse, clad in new bought, just-a-bit-too-tight briefs… just how I like my morning to begin…

…Mmmh… you smell good…, I hug him from behind, my chin on his shoulder, my arms possessively around his waist.

… You'll make me burn it…

I have to smile at his sad attempt of being mad at me. The low tone of his voice (his seductive, bedroom voice) makes me want to turn my plans over and jump back to bed with him instead. He's not the only one seductive 'round here…

… So…, I say, clinging to him even more, relishing his freshly-showered scent till my head gets dizzy.

… Well, it's one of yours…

… Alright, give…

That's not funny anymore. Already seeing my shirt burning away under his hands, I take over at the ironing board, informing him to hurry the heck up.

… What for…

… Get dressed and you'll see…

Last night's chat didn't leave me untouched, so I decided spontaneously this morning to spend the day with furniture shopping for Sy going to be a part of my flat.

…That ain't mine!…

Grinning wildly about his success, Sy catches his ironed shirt, and five minutes later we're walking hand in hand through the Square, with him firing questions about our destinations at me, and me ignoring him with a sly smile. He's not the only one in the mood for teasing this morning.

"Listen, why don't we get a cuppa to go at the Caf' and then I'll tell you on the way where we're goin', yeah? I really need a second caffeine dose after last night. And maybe a third right away."

Just a little distraction manoeuvre but he seems content with that, nodding with a knowing smile and stopping the inquiry for now.

Our mood this morning is, unsurprisingly, exquisite: the sun is shining, the birds are singing, the pair of us is in love like we've never been before. I certainly wasn't. The feeling itself is deep and breathtaking as it always was, only now there's no more hiding, no more secret meeting, no more hasty fumbling and even more hasty disappearing from my bed because "they'll wonder where I am, Christian…"

We're just a normal couple, and for us being normal is something we never thought we could achieve. To be honest, I never thought about having him all to myself, without any of _them_ lurking behind the corner, or him feeling guilty about loving me.

… to the Masala Unit. Also we…

And here they are.

Zainab's gaze tells she's surprised to see us, but only for a split of a second. Then surprise turns into disgust, and with an awkward swift of Kamil's buggy she turns around, tromping off in the direction she was just coming from while telling Tamwar something about a change of plan.

I hear Sy exhaling disappointed next to me and bite back the nasty remark I was sending through the Square to his mother. Instead I cast a quick glance at him, telling him with my eyes that everything will be okay but he just hangs his head low, shoulders slumped, sighing deeply.

They got him again. I briefly wonder if I'll ever see the day that we'll meet them without Sy being depressed for hours afterwards. Though it's just been a few days… they'll probably need more time… maybe, in a bit… a few weeks, maybe…

… It's just going to need a little time…, I try to convince not only Sy after we got our coffee and are back on the Square.

…I know…

That doesn't sound too convinced, so I add that Zainab probably just doesn't know how to handle this whole situation yet.

… I know. I know all that but still, it's just…

Luckily, this moment Dagenham's appears in front of us, distracting me from the sad sighs of my boyfriend and my boyfriend from just having met his bigoted family.

… Furniture?…

Less than impressed, Sy lets his eyes wander over Dave's stuff, and I finally explain my plan for the day to him, reminding him about the lamp on my night stand he decided to smash to a thousand pieces while throwing chapatti dough through my flat.

… Granted, it was a bit of a disaster…

A _bit_ is good but since I'm still too much in love to care about anything else than me and him and him and me I'm just looking for a new, cheaper lamp he can smash up whenever he wants.

Still doubtful, Sy now complains about there being enough furniture in my flat already (though he wouldn't mind buying new stuff at Harvey's or IKEA surely), giving me the chance to use the sentence I have in my heart since yesterday evening.

… That's the whole point. It's not my flat anymore. It's ours…

I can only imagine his big goofy smile since this moment I turn around to inspect new mattresses. An expensive treat but I can hardly spend the rest of my life with Sy on a mattress that has seen almost half of the male population of London.

I couldn't be happier, bickering about lamps with my boy, measuring mattresses and smiling about Sy being all shy about revealing his real self to the world. I could be all worried about that but I manage to tell myself it's still early days. He'll come 'round, eventually. I'm gay enough for the both of us and with me at his side it surely won't take long for Sy to embrace the whole Scene.

Sadly, eventually is not now, and so Sy decides to take a runner the moment he's confronted with Dave mocking us about. I've known Dave for a while, and he's everything but a homophobe. For Sy though it must have felt like gay-bashing at its best. Cripes.

After apologising to Dave I spend most of the morning with walking 'round the Square while phoning Sy to no avail. I'm really worried now but my mood increases when I spot Tamwar reading one of my favourite men's magazines. Not he, too, surely?!

… Yeah, I wasn't actually reading it, so…

Of course he wasn't…

The next minute Tam surprises me with asking about his brother. I thought Sy were at least in contact with him? Apparently not, so I tell him what I know.

… He misses you. Misses his family…

When we had a minute where we weren't having it on, Sy decided to tell me what had happened this certain evening he left his family. Match making. Zainab plus a mission, never a combination to fail.

"I just… I just couldn't… All this business with the therapy… It helped me, really. One day I just sat there, watching Alan telling me all those gross stuff, and it occurred to me: He's the one in the wrong. He's the one telling me all I felt for you was down to my childhood being a nightmare. But it wasn't. I've had a fine childhood. So loving you was only down to one thing: Being gay. And if it's not you, it'll be some other guy. Only that… I didn't want it to be someone else.

That's why I came to you straight after but you refused to believe me, and I could hardly blame you. Though it felt as if… as if someone just stabbed me right in the chest. So I returned back to the stall where mom greeted me with the good news of inviting Auntie Bushra and the lot over. She didn't say why but I already knew.

And I thought I'll just do what I always do in those situations: Keep my head low, not promise no one anything, appear as boring as possible. It worked, only a bit too good, cause suddenly dad was there, telling me how proud he is of me trying to tackle my problems. Being in therapy, not moaning at mom trying to set me up, staying away from you…

I just couldn't tell him nothing of the things he's proud of me for were true. I stopped therapy, I hated mom's idea of setting me up with a woman, ruining my life as well as the life of that innocent girl and not caring one bit, and most of all: All I could think of while Auntie Bushra and Auntie Somiyah practically sold her daughters to mom and dad was you. I needed you. I knew I was gay but the same time I knew I'll never do anything about it. Not without you.

So I left them. Left everything behind, all my stuff, my Quran, my whole life. I still love them, you know, as stupid as that may sound. They're still my parents, I still honour them. Just… from afar…"

Before starting to cry his little eyes out he then told me how much he misses them all. His mom, with whom he'd always had a laugh; his dad, the best teacher in all things to do with Islam for all his life; Shabnam, his only sister and best friend for most of his teenager life; Tambo, the little geek who's on the brink of adulthood; and of course, Kamil, his little baby brother who probably will have forget him in a few weeks time.

… Look after him…

Tam's little sad face breaks my heart, and I swear the minute I find Sy I'll help him to set the connection with his brother back up.

Though I don't get him on the phone for the next few hours, so I have to endure a lonely lunch in the Vic including Rox' sad attempts of getting all the saucy details of the last days. After lunch I'm busy with waiting for our new mattress which finally arrives, and the minute I'm done with making the bed my Sy arrives back in the flat, too.

My heart leaps at the sight of him but when I turn 'round I see his expression, and his "Hi" doesn't sound too pleased as well so I go on with the bed making, sending an unimpressed "Hey" in his direction.

… Who… who was that…

Sorry? What is he talking about now?

… Who…

… Well, that guy…

Guy? Does he mean the mattress guy? And this tone of his… I know that tone…

… Jealous, are you…, I ask him while taking a seat on our bed.

I really don't want to sound so rude but the way he's suggesting me having it on with some random delivery guy the minute he turns his back is just a bit too much for me.

… Oh, don't be daft…

Of course he is.

… Look, who was he…

… Why, d'you fancy him…

I just can't help myself, and according to Sy's desperate sigh I've gone just that little bit too far now.

After having found my smile, I grab his arm and pull him next to me onto our new mattress while explaining to the fool that is my boyfriend who "the guy" really was.

… So what do you think was going on…

… I wasn't… I just thought that…

I knew exactly what he thought. Gay man, hot delivery guy, mattresses… Time to give Sy some home truths.

… You may find this hard to believe Sy, but not all gay relationships are casual… or sordid…

That doesn't seem to convince him, so I send a little … Now I love you. I love _you_… on its way which makes him look a bit aghast to me, making the butterflies in the pit of my stomach buzz around like crazy. This look of him… he still has no idea how freaking handsome he is or how much I _really_ love him (no words can _ever_ describe this fact completely).

… Why would I want to look at anyone else…

Ruffling his hair, making him smile again at least a wee tiny bit I then demand to know why my heart ran off earlier this day, though I think I already know.

… He was laughing at us…

Of course he wasn't. Just a normal salesman, spotting an opportunity to make money and trying to be funny the same time.

… It's all in your head…

Anf finally, something he agrees on.

… I'm being silly, am I…

Yes. Yes you are, my love.

"But I love ya for it. Shall I show you how much?!"

"If you insist…"

How can we ever keep our hands from each other…

**cScScScScSc**

"Wha… wait, Christ… Christian, did you hear tha…"

"Gosh, no… now just continue with…"

"There! Told you there was somethmpf…"

"They… they'll come… come back… later…"

"I don't kn… Chr… ahahahok…okay…"

**cScScScScSc**

Only two hours later, and I am able to stand on my feet again. While Sy is busy checking some e-mails, I decide to jump over to the minute mart for a few afternoon snacks. I can really do with some over-sugared treats now.

But I don't come very far.

"Oi! What the… oh? Sy? I think you should have a look at this…"

After opening the front door, I nearly fell over a cardboard box, containing a lot of tits and tats as well as a certain, once almost destroyed picture.

"What is it, Christian? Told you I'm busy!"

"Err… you should _really_ see this."

"'kay, okay… coming… you better have kept your trousers on…"

"As if you'd mind if I…"

"Christian? What's this…?"

The last comprehensive words coming from his mouth for the next hour. After realising that someone of his family must have sneaked across the Square to bring their lost son his belongings, he's crying like a toddler, crying, crying, crying, into my shoulder, the sofa pillows, his own hands, and finally, into the box and onto his last belongings.

"Now now, babe… you don't wanna have to bring all your books to Dot's dryer later, do you? Looks expensive, that one…" I add, holding up a greenish book with golden Arabic signs all over its cover.

He now wipes his face with one arm and holds out the other one to me, so I simply put the book into his palm and continue graveling through the box full of socks and underwear but also magazines, old sunglasses, a bread knife and dried out pens without caps. Seems like Zainab (who else) just cleaned up the house and emptied some drawers full of odds and ends into this box. Maybe it wasn't planned to end up here after all…

"D'you know what that is, Christian? My Quran… the one dad bought me for my sixth birthday… I thought… I thought I'll never see it again… Do you think…"

He doesn't need to say more. And looking at me with eyes full of hope I simply have to make a one-second decision.

"I really don't know, babe, but I guess at least someone in your family thinks you'd need your underwear and socks back."

Nodding absently, he puts the box down next to the sofa, opens up his Quran and starts reading.

I don't really know what to do now since I never saw him like this: completely intrigued and concentrated, all the grief of the last hour gone and forgotten. He's still sniffling every now and then but all in all he's quite calm now, just sitting and reading, and I decide to not ruin any of that peace of his mind with telling him that his mother probably has no idea where the stuff for the wheelie bin ended up.

In the end I just take the cardboard box with me into the kitchen and separate the junk from the good stuff since the minute Sy sees the broken pens, empty pillboxes, and old tubes of glue he'll finally see Zainab's real face, and that's nothing I can risk. As much as I want him to.


End file.
